Best Served Hot
by Another Girl Grasping
Summary: When Hermione catches Ron cheating, Rita's article is the last straw. Our Herione seeks explicit revenge and recieves it in abundance. HG/RS. Rated M for sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Best Served Hot

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I do not own the settings.

A/N: Hermione walked into my head one day weaing tight jeans, a leather jacket and a resolute expression. This is where she took me. Enjoy

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Hermione walked slowly, deliberately, toward the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn't difficult to walk around these days. Many people didn't recognize her anymore. In fact, even the woman she was following hadn't yet noted the fact that she was only ten paces or so behind her. Hardness made its home in her features.

She watched as the woman checked into room nine. She waited about ten minutes before walking into the pub. Tom smiled warmly at her and she returned the sentiment. The man was kind, most people were not. She reserved her good will for those who deserved it. With a nod she made her way up the steps. Honeyed eyes spared a glance at the door marked seven, where she was staying, before brushing past it to room nine.

There was a score left unsettled. It sat heavy on her mind, weighing her down. Hermione Granger did not leave things unfinished, ever. Take for instance her marriage... Finished. She was 26 years old now, she had two children and palimony to pay. It was a horrible joke, paying him when she was the one who found him in bed with that slag of a woman. She couldn't understand why she didn't see it coming. After all the shit he put her through with Lavender Brown and abandoning her and Harry in the Forest of Dean; she ought to have realized his freckled idiocy would never change.

The owls were tapping incessantly at her window with notes from Ron. At first they were apologetic and sweet, that only served to piss her off. Then they turned to angry and cruel, calling her frigid and insisting it was her fault his cock had magically found its way into other women. Finally she'd dropped the children off with Molly and taken a room at the Leaky Cauldron.

The woman she considered a second mother could only look at her sadly and wish her best. At least she hadn't tried to convince Hermione to forgive her son. Even his mother knew he was an ass. She was grateful for Molly's understanding nature and that she agreed to take the children for a week. Hermione truly needed to get her head in order.

Beginning here and now. She clutched the latest issue of the Prophet in her fist. A photograph from her wedding was on the cover. She watched Ron twirling her around and take her in his arms, once and then twice. Her eyes travelled lower, to the photo of Ron with his head in his hands, shaking from side to side.

"ANOTHER NOTCH ON HER WAND!" Read the headline. Another notch indeed, on Ron's wand, not hers. Only Merlin knew how many women he'd bedded over the course of their four year marriage. She thought of him pressing into her, pressing into her after just having washed another woman off of him. The notion stirred the contents of her stomach. She stopped for a moment and leaned against the wall in the hallway. She felt as if she would cry, but had no tears left to shed. She felt as if she might vomit, but swallowed down hard against the urge.

After a few minutes she was able to push herself off the wall, her features set once more. Room number nine. Shabby lodgings to be sure, but this was a rather shabby woman Hermione was dealing with. She inhaled deeply and released. Her wand held securely in her left hand, her right ascended and rapped on weathered wood three times.

Ever arrogant, the blonde witch answered the door without asking who it was first. Wood creaked and revealed the reporter, right eyebrow cocked. Over-painted red lips quirked to the side in smirk. "Mrs. Weasley, good evening. Condolences." Mocking words dripped from garnet lips like blood. Hermione could only see red. She would widen that smirk considerably before the night was over.

She brushed her slight form past the curvaceous woman into the room. "You can shove your condolences up your ass Rita." She said, throwing her body down into an armchair set up next to the bed and dropping her purse next to it. Rita laughed and closed the door with a flick of her wand, turning to the young witch and smiling.

"I take it you're here to blackmail me again? It won't work this time. I'm a registered animagus, its official, they even gave me a nice little laminated card to carry around in my purse. So you can take your threats and shove them up your own ass." As she spoke her face became redder and redder until her lips simply blended in. Hermione watched in fascinated curiosity, would she turn into a beetle from her anger? A passage from one of her transfiguration books had mentioned that highly charged emotions could cause such a thing.

"Calm yourself Rita, you're no good to me if you revert to your bug form. I might be frustrated enough to crush you underfoot. Let's just bring this situation down from a ten to perhaps... a four, shall we?" Hermione stood and smoothed her black tank over form fitting dark blue jeans. Rita took notice of her clothing for the first time. An open black leather jacket hit at her hip. On her feet were boots with a heel that looked like a weapon.

She certainly didn't look like a woman who'd recently separated from her husband with whom she had two children. She looked positively dangerous and... desirable. Rita idly wondered why any man would seek the warmth of someone else in his bed when this was his wife. "I suppose we could do that." Rita responded. She walked over to the bar and fetched some fire whiskey, motioning to Hermione, who nodded her acceptance of the libation.

Rita handed her a double and together they tossed the strong drink back. "Thank you." Hermione said politely, examining the tumbler in her hand. "Now, I'm not here to blackmail you. Though this last article painted me in a rather unflattering light. 'Unable to keep hold of a good man.' I believe you wrote." Rita nodded at the quote. "Well you're mistaken. The man is simply a prat who chose not to grow up-"

"So you want a rewrite? I don't-" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Will you shut your trap for one minute and let someone else speak, woman?" Hermione demanded. Rita's eyes widened. She nodded slowly. The young witch might appear calm, but flashes of her anger floated to the surface occasionally. She decided it best to let her say her piece.

"I'm not here for a bloody rewrite. I couldn't care less what your readers think. I'm here for revenge." Hermione leaned on the wall behind her.

"Revenge on..." Rita led her, she wrapped her fingers around her wand, preparing for a duel and hoping it wouldn't be in her near future. Hermione noted the change in the reporter's body language. She sighed.

"Not on you Rita, I need your help." Hermione finished. Rita's arm relaxed. She sat down on the easy chair Hermione previously occupied. She grabbed her quill and waited. Hermione raised an eyebrow at her.

"No more articles Rita. You see, my husband cheated on me with slag after slag. What I need is a way to make him feel just like I felt. That's where you come in." Rita narrowed her eyes at the young woman.

"I'm no slag." She said simply. Hermione took a step toward her.

"I'm well aware. I certainly wouldn't want to match him, I want to out-do him." She pulled out a camcorder. "This is a muggle device used to create movies. Pictures that move for a long time. I want to make a nice movie for my husband." She explained, placing the camcorder on a table opposite the bed.

Rita caught on quickly. She looked at the witch before her. She was an attractive woman to be sure... and Rita did so love a good intrigue. "I think I can offer you some assistance." Oh those lips. Those red lips. "So this is for your husband?" She asked.

"More for me. But yes, for him too." She leaned back on her hands, displaying her toned body for Rita. "He considered me frigid. I intend to prove otherwise." She said, rolling her shoulders to allow the leather jacket to fall off of her frame. She beckoned Rita to come closer and the reporter complied.

"I must admit to having notions of you as... Icy." Rita said as she unbuttoned her blouse. She watched the passions begin to rise in the young woman. She noted the curves that childbearing had given her once slight form. "So if we're here to prove your prowess, I suggest you begin." She joked.

Hermione took a deep breath. She was going to go through with this. She couldn't turn back now, no matter her doubts. Ron had bedded god knows how many women outside of their marriage. She reached down and grabbed at the hem of her tank, pulling it over her head. She let her fingers trail down her chest and abdomen before opening her button fly jeans. Rita's eyes on her urged her on. Ron would hate that she let the reporter do this.

Hermione stood and walked over to her bag. She pulled out a long strap on dildo. "I want you to use this. That's my only condition, you're free to do whatever else strikes your fancy. But I want him to feel... small." Rita's eyes lit up like fireworks.

"Anything I fancy?" She asked. Hermione nodded confirmation.

"In fact, I would prefer if you were rough." She huffed. "Frigid indeed." Rita laughed, taking the phallus from Hermione. She stripped her clothes off without shame and put it on. Hermione took her clothes off as well. She pressed the record button on her camcorder and adjusted the angle to get all of the bed.

Rita crawled across the bed toward her. Her garnet pressed against the young witch's soft pink mouth. Hermione darted her tongue out to taste Rita's lips. She tasted of bittersweet revenge. She tasted so good. At the first brush of the reporter's tongue against hers she knew she was making the right choice. She let go and wrapped her arm around Rita's neck.

Hermione was warm, soft and firm, Rita allowed herself to relish in the woman's embrace. She kissed her long and well, with long pent up passion. The young witch moaned into the kiss, driving Rita on. She rose up on one elbow and with her free hand began touching, exploring the young woman. She felt smooth olive skin rise to gooseflesh. Hermione's back arched slightly, pressing her hips up toward Rita.

The kiss broke in two, smeared red lips made their way down to full breasts. A lascivious tongue circled and flicked, eliciting soft moans in response. Hermione ran her fingers through the older witch's curls, gripping tight when Rita bit down on one of her peaks. her breasts arched and a surprised moan of pain and pleasure sounded from her throat.

"Mmm, you DO like it rough. Little vixen." Rita teased. A sultry laugh was the only response. Rita raised herself up, looking Hermione in the eye, she pet her hair gently before yanking Hermione down by curling brown locks. Hermione took the clue and darted her tongue out to taste the tip of Rita's cock.

She remembered all of the nights Ron insisted. All the nights she tried her best to satisfy him and still he cheated. She smiled up at Rita. This wasn't Ron... and she was going to suck Rita's cock like never before. Rita watched as the woman let the phallus slide past her lips, she took far more into her mouth than Rita imagined she could. It was possibly the sexiest thing she had ever seen. She wrapped some hair around her hand and slowly guided Hermione's motions so that the base hit her clit just right. She pulled away from Hermione after a few minutes and pushed her to lie down.

Rita positioned herself between Hermione's legs and looked toward the camera, smirking. She reached between the young witch's thighs, seeing if she was ready. "Oh you dirty little bitch, you're positively drenched." Hermione groaned at the insults and thrust her hips forward. Rita leaned down to kiss her once more. Her tongue slipped past lips as the head of her cock slid into Hermione.

Moans travelled the space between Hermione's mouth and Rita's ears. A small hand shot out to grip Rita's shoulder. In one languid stroke Hermione was filled to the hilt with revenge. Revenge was long and wide, revenge touched all of her walls at once, unlike her husband. The moan wasn't the moan her husband evoked. Round, brown eyes looked up through long lashes at Rita with hunger. Rita smirked and began to stroke.

Hermione's head turned from side to side as she felt Rita pull almost all the way out before pistoning forward. Each thrust was long and full. Her right leg wrapped around Rita's hips, desperate not to let the woman go. She needn't have worried, Rita was quite enjoying herself. The young witch was slick and hot as she reached down to pass the pad of a finger over her clit. Hips jerked in response and a particularly delicious moan emitted from the pink lipped beauty.

"Feels good then, does it?" Rita asked haughtily. Hermione bit her lip, looking up at one of her enemies with a hunger Rita never thought she would find there in milk chocolate eyes.

"Gods yes." Hermione replied and leaned up, taking smeared, red lips in hers. Rita sped her pace up as the two women kissed feverishly. Hermione's hips rolled up toward the reporter with abandon. It had been so long since she made love to anyone but Ron and she almost forgot what she'd been missing. Lips pulled apart reluctantly, gasping for precious air.

Sensibly clipped nails penned at Rita's back, writing stories of desire and abandon. A particular thrill ran down the reporter's spine. The realization that she wanted to make this young woman scream her name came barreling into her psyche like a runaway train. She stopped short on her thrusts. "No! Hard, I need it hard." Hermione practically sobbed.

"Turn over." Molasses command dripped from swollen, red mouth. She smirked as the woman complied with skill, lifting on leg and rotating with the cock still inside of her. Rita was impressed. She wasted no time gripping the shapely hips before her and slamming into the waiting woman. Hermione's hand shot out and gripped the headboard just in time to stop her nose from breaking.

"Your body is fucking stunning. Such a sweet fuck." Rita crooned to Hermione, whose moans had become almost constant. Her voice was growing hoarse as her orgasm neared. Long, thick fingers found their way to her nipples, teasing relentlessly. She was close now. One hand slipped to her shoulder, forcing her back to an elegant arch as the other slipped down her front. With the first touch of her clit Hermione fell apart. "Oh fuck! Gods Rita, yes!" Came name sought. Rita let Hermione rock her hips back, watching with fascination the way the rolling slowed as she rode out her pleasure.

Rita pulled away when the spasms ceased and Hermione turned over, tears in her eyes. "Are you sad?" Rita asked alarmed and shocked. By all means the woman should be ecstatic after that. Hermione laughed softly.

"No, I'm triumphant." She said, looking pointedly at the camera. Rita smiled. The woman was really quite beautiful and so full of Passion. Who knew?

"What say we turn that thing off and you climb on top? I think Red's seen quite enough." She suggested, wagging her perfectly arched eyebrows. Hermione smirked, standing to shut it off.

"Aren't you afraid he will use it to blackmail you anyway?" Rita asked suddenly. Hermione laughed, staring into the camera.

"No, I'm not. Goodbye Ronald." She said and the video cut.

Ron looked into the satisfied, smiling face of his wife on the telly. His wife who'd been thoroughly fucked by Rita Skeeter with a strap on dildo. His face was red with anger, his hands clenched to fists and shaking. He was hard in spite of himself. He wondered for a moment why Hermione wasn't worried about him incriminating her with the video when his VCR exploded.

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	2. A Follow-Up

Best Served Hot

A Follow-Up

A/N: It seems this plotline wasn't through me just yet. I hope you enjoy this follow up piece. Please forgive typos, i write on my cell phone at work, on the subway, anywhere I can. I've edited the best I can.

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Hermione reached down into the bath water, rinsing her slick hands of sweet smelling shampoo. Her son's smile was infectious. She couldn't help laughing along with him about his hair, sticking up straight in spikes. It was one of his favorite things to do. She quickly wiped away a glob of bubbles from his forehead.

"I look like a porkey-pine, mama!" Hugo enthusiastically informed her. She played along, placing the tip of her finger against one of the pointed bunches of hair and pulling it back in mock pain.

"And prickly like one too!" Her son dissolved into giggles. She watched as he pinched his nose between two fingers, took a deep breath and dunked his head under the water. When he emerged his brown locks were slick against his face. She brushed them out of his eyes.

"Okay little prince, I think you're all clean. Did we miss any spots?" Her son's expression became suddenly serious. She watched as he silently ticked off his mental list of places that were clean.

"No mama! All clean!" He reported, lifting his hand for a high five. Hermione gently tapped Hugo's hand. She stood and grabbed her son's plush dinosaur towel. Hugo lifted his arms and she scooped him up out of the water, folding him lovingly into the towel.

Wet strands of hair fell into his eyes. As endearing as that was, Hermione made a mental note to clip his hair sometime this week. She reached for a smaller towel and the doorbell rang. Hermione scrunched up her nose. It was only Thursday night. Ron wouldn't be picking them up for his weekend until tomorrow afternoon.

"Mum? Do you want me to get the door?" Rose called from her room. Her daughter was in a 'grown up' stage, wanting to help out. At this time, not expecting company? Negative.

"No honey, can you come watch your brother?" She replied and heard the scamper of nine year old feet running down the hall. She dressed Hugo in footie pajamas and tossed a towel over her son's head. "Help him dry his hair off and then make your way to your room. Ill be back up shortly.

She didn't miss the mischievous gleam in Rose's eye and knew she woukd be coming back to a nearly un-combable mop of hair on her son's head. The grin on her daughter's face reminds her of Ron. But that stopped bothering her long ago. Both of her children inherited her mind, it stood to reason they should have gotten some things from their father too. And a healthy sense if mischief would aid her daughter in making more friends than Hermione had when she was young. She could hear Hugo giggling like mad at having his hair dried by his sister. She smiled.

Another insistent knock on the door had her picking up the pace of her step. She grabbed her wand from its place on the table in the hall. "Who is it?" She asked in her most authoritative tone. She didn't want to sound like a potential victim should it be someone with ill intent on the other side of the door. She had her children to think about.

"Rita Skeeter." Hermione's eyes widened and she cracked the door open. Indeed it was the reporter. Hermione slipped out and gently closed the door behind her. "You don't look happy to see me." Rita drawled out.

Hermione took a moment. "I don't understand why you're here." It wasn't that she didn't want to see the woman. Her feelings on the reporter were neither here nor there, but this was her home, not some room in a seedy inn. Her children were inside getting ready for bed.

"Ah, and the know-it-all doesn't like not understanding, does she?" Painted lips curved in smirk. "I think once you put the little ones to bed, you might want to hear what I know." Hermione's brow furrowed at that.

"We agreed that our tryst was just that, a one time deal. Both of us were quite satisfied, I believe." She brushed the woman off, trying not to think about the generous hips before her, pressing into her own body. A faint flush rose in her cheeks.

"I haven't offered to fuck you again. Presumptuous little thing, aren't you?" Those red lips pulled into a full on smile at the obvious blush on th ther younger woman's face.

"You have a piece of information for me and you don't want anything in return?" The reporter's eyes darkened. She stepped forward, pressing Hermione against her own front door. One painted fingernail trailed from clavicle, up the hollow of the young woman's throat. Teeth grasped her ear, nipping.

"I never said that either, did I? Invite me inside." Rita rasped.

Hermione shivered as breath played against her ear. "Let me put Rose and Hugo to bed." She reached behind her and turned the doorknob. Rita followed her inside. "Please, have a seat." Once the reporter had, Hermione turned to walk upstairs. She paused at the foot of the stair. "If you're thirsty, help yourself to whatever you enjoy in the kitchen. I'll be back down shortly."

Hugo and Rose both lay in their beds, each reading a book. Hermione smiled. "Who was at the door mum?" Rose asked. Hugo perked up and looked over his picture book at her expectantly.

"Just someone I met while I was in school, my darlings. Nothing to fret over." She assured them. Hugo nodded, satisfied by her answer. Rose quirked an eyebrow at her. She knew it was an expression the girl had picked up from her own face.

"It's rather late for visiting." Rose said carefully.

"Indeed, it is. Perhaps another day you can meet my friend. But tonight you need to go to bed. You've got school in the morning." Rose recognized the tone in her mother's voice. The discussion was over. Hermione moved further into the room, tucking in and kissing her children's foreheads. "I love you both very much. Dream sweetly." She shut the overhead light and switched on Hugo's night light. She closed the door and listened for a moment. The children inside whispered for a minute before bidding one another goodnight. She knew light snoring would ensue in the coming minutes and smiled.

She suddenly recalled her company and ran to her bathroom, forcing a few fly always back into her bun and straightening out her dress. She thought it foolish to put make up on now. The woman would know why. She settled for refreshing the eyeliner and lip balm she had worn for the day before making her way back down to face Rita.

She took in the sight before her. One stocking-clad leg draped over the other, shadows playing teasingly over the woman's sex. Rita made a science of observing her long, painted nails.

"What is it you've come to tell me then?" Hermione asked, masking the sudden desire in her voice. Memories of that night had plauged her over the months since. She'd grown tired of waiting and sliding her hand between her thighs. She hoped this conversation would lead to less talking and more touching.

"It's about your ex husband." Rita stated. Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "Indeed, I'd quite prefer to be here for other things, but I thought since boy wonder is set on being neutral, someone ought to warn you." She continued.

"He's moved on. I don't care about that." Hermione replied. It had taken all of a month to realize she had no feelings left for her ex. She started getting over him before she ever asked for the divorce.

"I recall... It's different this time. He-" Rita paused, trying to find a way to say this delicately. Finding none she pressed on. "He's gotten one of them pregnant." She watched the mask of slip off of Hermione's face. She was shocked as the young woman began laughing.

"Is it the one who looks like me?" Hermione chuckled out. Rita could only nod. "Is his mother forcing him to marry the slag?" Rita nodded again.

"I didn't expect you'd take this so well." Rita stood. "I'm glad that you can have a laugh about it though. I can see myself out." This got the witch's attention. Honeyed eyes raked over the reporter's form.

"Why on earth would you do that?" She demanded.

"It seems my information is of no consequence to you. I see no point in staying." Hermione raised an eyebrow. In a few strides she crossed the room and grabbed Rita by her purple lapels.

"I don't need to be distraught to want you." She explained, pulling the older witch into a bruising kiss. Rita smirked against Hermione's lips. She pulled back.

"Let me just check that the children are asleep..." She pulled back to make for tbe stairs before a hand stopped her.

"Let me." Rita said and Hermione watched as her lover disappeared into her animagus form. Within minutes she could hear the buzzing of Rita's return. The woman transfigured before she reached the bottom stair, taking the last four on foot.

"They both snore like beasts." Rita declared. Hermione snorted.

"I'd like to blame it on their father, but they get that from me." Rita smiled.

"Your daughter was fast asleep, drooling on her book, flashlight clutched in her hand. I hope you don't mind, I moved the book and light to her bedside table." Hermione was surprised.

"Thank you." She moved forward. She may not have dressed for the role, but she was no less a predator on this night than she had been the last time she found herself this close to the reporter.

"So you want me." Rita said. It wasn't a question. Hermione rolled her eyes and pressed her body against the fuller form in front of her. Rising on her toes, she spoke directly into Rita's ear.

"Well I certainly didn't have to enlist your help last time, did I? I'm a fan of accomlishing two goals at once." Her lips moved below Rita's ear, kissing and biting at the sensitive skin there.

"Oh?" Painted nails scratched a path down Hermione's neck. "So I was more than a means to an end then?" Rita smirked at the moans she so easily pulled from the younger witch.

"I'm not sure that 'more' is the right word. I'd say you were a means to two ends." Hermione smirked, watching the woman's pride flare up. She couldn't allow this to become something it wasn't. It had to be angry, hard. And above all else, detached. Feeling something more would be catastrophe.

Her taunt achieved its desired reaction. Rita's teeth sunk into Hermione's shoulder and the brunette raked her fingers through the perfectly set curls, ruining them.

The women backed up into the kitchen, Rita pressed Hermione against a countertop, kissing her fiercely. Her hands began sliding up Hermione's stocking covered thighs, discovering that the young mother of two didn't wear hose, but thigh highs and garters.

"Are you kidding me with these?" Rita practically growled, turning Hermione to face away from her. Hermione felt the material of her dress being pulled up over her thighs, hips, waist. A smirk plastered on her face at the hiss of approval from the reporter. "You walk around all day... like this?" Rita asked, running her fingers across the smooth expanse of skin before her.

"What is that saying? Lady in the streets and such?" Hermione replied huskily. Rita couldn't seem to wrap her mind around the garter belt and black lace thong, beneath Hermione's very work-appropriate dress. Rita's hands slid further up the dress, over a thin waist, before withdrawing. She made quick work of the zipper on the side of Hermione's dress and smiled when a matching black bra came into view.

The dress fell to the floor and Hermione stepped out of it. Rita took in the view, bare thighs just above stockings. Black lace, stark against pale skin. If asked later, she would deny how dry her mouth had become at the sight.

Hermione smirked at the reporter's reaction. It was good to be wanted. To see that hunger in her eyes. She yelped quietly when strong hands suddenly lifted her onto her own countertop. Her head fell back agsinst a cabinet when long nails scratched down her hips, hooking her thong and pulling it down as far as her garter belt, still holding her stockings, would allow.

Rita stared at the woman before her. Fuck, if she'd known that little know-it-all bookworm was going to end up looking like this she would have been nicer to her back in her Hogwarts days. Or even more awful...

Hermione's back arched when one long finger slid up her slit. Her eyes darkened as the reporter smeared her arousal across her own bottom lip. Her arousal increased when Rita sucked that same lip, hard, removing all traces of wetness.

Hands travelled down her back, pulling her body forward. A warm mouth closed over a lace-cvered nipple. Hermionr swallowed hard on the cry in her throat. Her small hands oushed on Rita's shoulders.

"Hold on... kids..." Rits rolled her eyes.

"They're asleep." She replied, moving to reclaim Hermione's breast. Small hands stopped her again.

"Perhaps you'll recall from our last encounter, that I am loud enough to wake the dead, nevermind two small children." Hermione insisted. She was rewarded with a deep laugh from the older woman.

"Oh, I recall dear." Hermione wanted to slap the smirk off of the attractive face in front of her. She chose not to when Rita's wand emerged and placed a silencing spell on the kitchen. The wand fell to the floor with a clatter. "There, now you can have at it."

Have at it, she did. Rita had almost forgotten the melodic quality of the young brunette's pleasure. She silently agreed that sound-proofing was in order. Hermione wrspped her arms around Rita's shoulders as the woman made love to her breasts. Her back maintained a lovely arch throughout, offering herself up to be devoured.

It was as Rita's fingers found her entrance that the phone rang. Hermione cursed and swore noting that her ex was the one interrupting. Rits pulled back slightly, not sure what Hermione wsnted to do in this situation.

"I have to take this, he might be cancelling his weekend with them." She explained, smiling as the reporter merely tilted her head forward in understanding.

"Yes?" She answered the phone, more tersely than she normally would.

"Uh... hi." Came the reply. Rita made busy work of drawing patterns on Hermione's inner thighs, smirking as she squirmed in response.

"Yeah, what is it?" Hermione demanded, far less patient than even her usual annoyed state at the man.

"Well... I didn't want you to hear from someone else-"

"Is this about your new pregnant, fiancée? Honestly, Ron it's quater past nine, surely I can congratulate you tomorrow when you pick up the kids?" Silence on the line. Hermione concentrates on keeping her breathing quiet as one finger probes into her.

"How do you... that fucking reporter!" Realization dawns on him and his snger flares. Hermione covers a moan with a lsugh as a second finger joins the first.

"An apt choice of words." She replies. Ron is not amused. "If that was all..."

"Are you with her right now? Are you fucking her right now?!" She imagines his face must match his hair by now.

"No, Ronald. I am most certainly not fucking her right now." Hermione replies. Rita snorts loudly.

"I can hear that you aren't alone. With our kids in the house, Hermione? Really?" Rita can't decide if the roll of brown eyes is one of pleasure or annoyance at her ex. She adds a third finger just in case it wasn't pleasure and fucks the woman harder. Hermione nearly bites through her lip, her free hand reaching behind her, palm braced on the countertop. She can't reply. Rita takes pity on her as she reached her climax, taking the phone and speaking over the nearly constant moaning.

"Hello, I believe what your ex-wife meant was that I am currently fucking her, she'll be fucking me later. Have a lovely evening and congrats." Rita explained and hit the end call button, gently placing the phone down and slowing her thrusts.

Hermione's lips crashed into her own. "Thank you." She panted once they'd seperated.

"For what?" Rita asked, perplexed.

"Killing two birds with one stone again." Hermione replied, before hopping off of the counter, pulling her thong back up and pushing the reporter to the floor.

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A/N: You know the drill. Hit that button! Tell me how you love it.


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